


Give Me Love

by TheLonelyPoet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bullies, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, High School, M/M, Sexual Inexperience, Sexual Tension, Snogging, Teen Lestrade, Teen Mycroft, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLonelyPoet/pseuds/TheLonelyPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being bullied in school Mycroft feels empty and basically like shit, but there is a certain guy who shows Mycroft that he is not alone and with that everything changes for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Picking Up The Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> The idea just came up. I often think that Mycroft has not always been this way, not alway been "The Iceman" and I wondered what would have happened if someone had shown him that there is no need to hide away his feelings. This is the result, I hope you enjoy it.  
> x

It was one of these days again. For Mycroft they became almost normal. Common. But it hurt anyway. It hurt to get embarrassed, to get spit on, to get kicked. He would never get rid of the bullies who stole his bag from his locker and made his life hell in every possible way.

 

Hey lay on the floor of the corridor that lead to the library, his favourite place in school. He couldn’t move. One of the boys had kicked his knee while another had punched his jaw and someone hit him in the stomach. He wanted to scream, but no noise escaped him. He hated them, the school, himself. At his point Mycroft hated everything and cared for nothing. At least he thought that. He would think very different just a few minutes later.

 

When Greg walked through the empty school he always felt a little strange. It was weird to see the place so peaceful. No people running around, no shouting, no bell ringing, no lockers clattering. Beautiful silence.  He made his way to the library to return a book, when he saw someone lying on the floor. Mycroft. He and Mycroft were friends, well sort of. Greg felt different about him then about his other friends. He ran to him.

“Shit! Mycroft, are you okay?”

No response from the other boy, who was on his stomach and hid his face.

“Mycroft, what happened?”

“What do you think?”

“Fuck. I’ll kill them. Can you stand up?”

“What do you think?”

“Fair enough. Come on, I’ll help you.”

 Mycroft sat up and Greg supported him so he managed to stand up. He immediately limped into a corner on the right side of the corridor and hid his face again. It was too embarrassing.

“I’m sorry, Mycroft,” Greg said and followed him.

“It’s not your fault,” Mycroft said quietly.

“I  know. I am still sorry.”

“It’s my own fault that I’m a freak,” his voice broke.

“No,” Greg said and stepped closer.

“Mycroft look at me.” Carefully he turned the lanky body around and took the redheads face in his hands.

“You’re not a freak.”

“I am different,” Mycroft answered and tears rolled down his cheeks to his bruised jaw.

Greg gently brushed them away with his thumps.

“You are special,” he whispered. “You’re so special.”

And then they were kissing and everything faded away. There was no school, no walls, no ground. He had no clue how that had happened, but there were Gregory’s hands on his face and lips on his and it was all so confusing but his heart tingled and those lips were so soft and gentle and he felt like there was no air left in his lungs but it did'nt matter. There was no pain, no bruises and no insults. Maybe the earth stopped moving for a moment, Mycroft couldn’t tell. He didn’t even know how to kiss, but it seemed to be right just to follow the movement. Greg had done this before, probably lots of times, but Mycroft didn’t care. He knew that he was late, kissing for the first time with sixteen. He had no idea what he had been missing. The feeling of another body against his was incredible.

It felt like an eternity but it was still over too soon.

 Greg’s face was flushed when he broke the kiss. This wasn’t a just for fun snog, this was Mycroft. He stepped back a little and scratched the back of his neck deciding what to say.

“So…can I walk you home?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Don’t be silly,” Greg answered and came closer again to touch Mycroft’s arm.

“You can’t walk. And I…would like to.”

“Fine.”

Mycroft came out of his corner and Greg placed the other boy’s arm on his shoulders to support him. Together they made their way out of the school and onto the street.

“What will your parents say when they see you like this?”

There was a moment of silence before Mycroft replied, “My mother will pity me but do nothing about it and my father will hate me for being pitiful, weak and…” he stopped.

“And what?” Greg asked quietly, obviously shocked that parents could be so cruel.

“…and…gay.”

“Oh.” So Mycroft really was gay.

After more silence Greg couldn’t stand it anymore, “I think your dad is a prick.”

Mycroft looked at him and for a moment Greg thought he was angry, but then he just sighed. “You have no idea…”

 

In the meantime they had made it to the Holmes manor.

“Here we are,” Mycroft said, looking far from happy.

“You’ll have problems with these stairs, don’t you think?”

“You are quite right.”

“So let’s go.”

“Curious what your parents will think of me…” Greg mumbled when they reached the marble staircase.

“They’re not here yet. My mother is at a charity event and my father is in New York.”

“Maybe I should have a look at your wounds then!?”

Mycroft wasn’t stupid. He knew what was going on. But he had no idea why. Why was Gregory flirting with him, why had he kissed him, why did he care, why did he want to come in and stay and spend the day with him? It was crazy. Completely mental. It was bizarre that Mycroft couldn’t remember when or where he had been this happy.

“Yes, yes I think you should,” he managed to say and tried to climb the first step. He failed. His knee gave in and if Greg hadn’t held him, he would have gotten himself a few more bruises.

“This won’t work,” Greg stated simply and before Mycroft could argue or even respond he was lifted up by two strong arms.

“Gregory, wha-“

“Stronger than I look, aren’t I?" Greg smirked and started to climb the stairs with a very red Mycroft in his arms.

 Mycroft could not believe what was happening. He was carried. Like a child. By a good looking guy. Into his house. He was sure his face had the colour of a very ripe tomato, but he couldn’t stop looking at Greg’s face. He was truly beautiful. “You are so-“ _Oh no, there was no way in which he said that out loud._

“I am so what?” Greg asked as he reached the huge wooden door.

“-nice… to… do that for me.” Mycroft tried to cover up.

“Nice?” Greg sounded amused but almost disappointed. He put Mycroft down carefully and smoothed down his shirt.

The redhead panicked. Nice was not enough. Nice was bad. The weather was nice. Ice cream was nice. Gregory was stunning. Amazing. But he couldn’t say that. But he was so beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out without planning to. He wondered if the punches had caused a serious brain damage. Who told a sixteen year old boy he was beautiful? Why did he had to mess up, had to embarrass himself even more?

Greg wanted to dance on a roof, to jump into a lake with his clothes on, wanted to hug a bear or something because this was Mycroft Holmes, posh fancy bloke telling him that he thought he was beautiful. Greg Lestrade. Beautiful. And that coming from the boy with the perfect school uniform, the slender figure, the slightly curly red hair and the pale skin, who always looked absolutely neat and kissable. Then Greg realized that they had done it. He had been kissing Mycroft Holmes. Suddenly he felt heat rushing through his body and there was only one thing on his mind.

He wanted to do it again.

“Mycroft?” he breathed.

“Yes!?!” came the irritated response.

“May I kiss you again?”

Mycroft felt like he swallowed a beehive. He had this tingling in his belly. He wanted to do it again. He liked it. He liked Mycroft. It was all too much and not enough.

“Please,” he said, sounding needier than he wanted but it didn’t matter because soft lips were on his again and he leaned back against the door and pulled Greg towards him and now he could feel him everywhere and he felt the stirring in his groin and maybe it was not good because he was scaring the other boy away but he couldn’t help it and he couldn’t help to moan and then there was a tongue against his and he was sure he would die because it wasn’t allowed to feel that good and-

Greg stopped. Why did he stop? What did he do wrong? He was not allowed to stop!

Greg was panting. He wasn’t sure if he had done something this hot before. His erection said this was the hottest thing ever because he also could not remember getting so hard in so little time. There was no way that he could continue kissing Mycroft outside –almost in public– with a hard-on. He should go home.

“Mycroft, I-“

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no.”

“But I haven’t said anything.”

“And I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to say _‘ Mycroft, I don’t want this.’ , ‘Mycroft, I didn’t mean to.’, Mycroft, I’m sorry let’s forget about this.’_ I cannot deal with that,” he said angrily.

“God, sometimes I wonder if you really are a genius…”

“What?” Mycroft snapped and then Greg pinned him to the door, covering Mycroft’s body with his, looked into this stormy blue eyes and wanted him to feel, to understand.

“I wanted to say ‘Mycroft I think we’d better stop or continue this inside.’” He said against the taller boy’s lips before he gave him a small, gentle kiss.

Mycroft wasn’t able to think straight any longer as he felt Greg’s erection against his leg. Greg was aroused by him. By being close to him, kissing him. It was sheer unbelievable and yet it was true. He could feel it and it was the most erotic thing he ever experienced. He was kissed again, but it was over quickly and he was too baffled to react because he was just Mycroft. He wasn’t attractive. He wasn’t cool. But Greg was still there. With him. Hard.

“Let’s go inside.” Mycroft said and turned around to fumble with his keys.


	2. This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg patches Mycroft up and overwhelms him a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me ages to figure out where to go with this and to start writing this again. I'm sorry if you waited. Hopefuly it was worth it if you did. It would be great to hear what you think.  
> x  
> ThePoet

After Mycroft had closed the door behind them a wave of panic rolled over him. He had no experience whatsoever and he had never been a social person in general. This was doomed. He would destroy everything. He felt so good around Greg, but he wasn’t ready for certain things.

“Hey, Mycroft, it’s okay,” Greg said noticing that something bothered him, “Do you have a first aid kit somewhere?”

“Yes,” Mycroft answered and made his way to the kitchen to grab it. Greg followed him, making sure he could walk without falling. In the kitchen he took the first aid kit from Mycroft and told him to sit down on one of the white wooden chairs.

“I think you should get rid of the trousers,” Greg said and Mycroft looked at him in absolute horror. Greg chuckled, “I want to put ointment on your hurt knee, you berk.”

Mycroft let out a huff and laughed. He was a very self-conscious person. His body was just not pretty. He unbuckled his belt anyway and opened the button of his trousers with shaky hands. Greg kneeled down on the cold floor and pulled the fabric off his legs, revealing his black cotton boxers. Having a handsome boy kneeling in front of you does bring certain images to mind and Mycroft tried really hard to think about teatime at his grandmother’s place. Greg coated his fingers in ointment and started to spread it over Mycroft’s knee. It was such an intimate gesture Mycroft couldn’t stop feeling utterly protected and cared for. Greg kept his touch gentle, afraid of hurting the other boy. The bruise was already forming.  
Mycroft felt Greg’s fingertips caressing his leg before he started to put on a bandage and he felt like he had ants running around under his skin. All those feelings were entirely new to him and they disturbed him. He was a bit lost. Greg stood up again and grabbed a disinfecting spray to clean the cut on Mycroft’s jaw. He held his head with one hand, carefully as if he was afraid to break an expansive porcelain vase as he started to spray. Mycroft blushed under his touch and closed his eyes; then he hissed. The wound hurt like shit.

“Sorry,” Greg said quickly, “But that needed to be cleaned.”

“I know,” Mycroft said quietly as he opened his eyes again. The thank you died on his lips. Greg’s face was directly in front of his and he hadn’t moved his hand from the back of his head, fingers buried in Mycroft’s auburn hair. For one moment they stayed completely still just looking at each other. Then Mycroft slowly reached out and pulled Greg towards him. Lips found lips and Mycroft let out a shaky breath as Greg started to move, kissing him gently. He felt stupid for thinking it but kissing, letting someone come so close, made him feel exposed and strangely enough…loved. And Greg was so beautiful. He felt like crying without understanding why. Greg stopped, obviously realizing Mycroft didn’t really participate in the kiss.

“Are you okay, Myc? Are you in pain or something?”

“No,” Mycroft managed to say, “I’m just very glad you are here.” He couldn’t stop it, his voice broke. It was shameful. Suddenly Greg pulled him up from the chair and into a warm hug.

“It’s okay, Mycroft,” he said against his neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin. A shiver ran through Mycroft and he let out a strangled sob before melted into the touch. Greg held him for a while; then he squeezed his waist by hugging him closer. Mycroft flinched.

“They hit me in the stomach as well,” he murmured and Greg let go immediately.

“Bastards,” he said angrily, “We will go to the headmaster tomorrow. Together. This won’t happen again, Mycroft. I promise.”

Mycroft only nodded, the word together still echoing in his head. He wondered how he deserved Gregory Lestrade.

“Do you want me to look at it as well?” Greg asked and Mycroft said no before he had even thought about it. The idea of presenting Greg his unclothed belly horrified him. He felt ugly.

“You should do it yourself later then,” Greg said, still standing in the middle of the kitchen and pretty close to Mycroft.

“Would you like to see my room?” Mycroft asked and Greg nodded, the smile reappearing on his face.

 

Back in the entrance hall Mycroft stopped abruptly.

“Your room is upstairs, isn’t it?” Greg asked obviously amused by the expression on Mycroft’s face.

“Yes, it is,” Mycroft replied and blushed again.

“Let’s go then,” Greg said and grinned as he quickly lifted the taller boy up. Mycroft yelped.

“You should put me down; you will ruin your back.”

“Nonsense,” Greg answered as he started to climb the stairs, “You’re not very heavy.”

“Stop flattering me, Gregory.”

“I’m not. Honest!” Greg said.

“I’m fat,” Mycroft muttered under his breath. He didn’t plan to but he couldn’t unsay it now. Greg froze.

“Would you please stop, Mycroft? Please. You are not fat. You’re perfectly fit,” Greg said and his voice sounded strange.  
“And I think you’re beautiful,” he added quiet but firm. And with that he kissed Mycroft with everything he had to prove his words.

Mycroft threw his arms around his neck and now clung to him -as he had longed to as soon as Greg had gathered him in his arms- and responded eagerly. Slowly they made their way up the stairs without breaking the kiss. It felt so right Mycroft had goose bumps.

As they reached the first floor Greg let him down with a soft sigh. Mycroft led him to his room and Greg needed a moment to cope. It was huge, almost as big as Greg’s entire flat. The walls were painted in a rich blue and covered with wooden bookshelves. The bed was king size, and the desk under the high windows looked rather impressive as well. Mycroft slumped down on the relatively small black leather sofa and made an inviting gesture towards Greg.

“So,” he said after he joined Mycroft on the sofa trying to come up with something to talk about. The silence was getting awkward.  
Say something you fool Mycroft thought to himself but his mind was absolutely blank. Well that was definitely new. All he could think of was Greg’s lips, Greg’s touch.

“You’re a good kisser,” he blurted. I have lost my mind. I have honestly turned mental. Who says something like that?

Greg giggled, “Well, thank you.” His arm was on the backrest now, his hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. The weight comforted him.

“You are pretty good yourself,” Greg whispered looking at Mycroft’s pink lips. He closed the gap again, pressing their mouths together.

“I’m glad,” Mycroft breathed out between kisses, his hands fisted in the back of Greg’s shirt, “I have never kissed anyone before.”

Greg let out a soft oh and leaned back.


	3. Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short...  
> x

He didn’t know why it surprised him. Mycroft wasn’t exactly social after all. He had never seen him with another boy. But the first kiss was an important moment in one’s life. You remembered it forever if you wanted or not. And he was Mycroft’s first kiss now, and it had happened in school after a horrible day. Greg felt as if a cannonball fell into his stomach.  


“Stop worrying Gregory, please. I’m fine, more than fine actually.”  


“Good,” Greg said absently, “Because I didn’t know. The first kiss is something special and you’ll always remember it and if I had known…I wouldn’t have kissed you then because someone hurt you before and treated you badly and that’s surely not a nice thing to remember,” he babbled.  


Mycroft sat there and watched him intently. “Gregory, please stop. All I will remember is that you helped me through this today and that I’m incredibly lucky to know you and …”  
It was embarrassing but this was the time for honesty.  


“...the time barely matters to me, it’s an unimportant detail. I’m just very glad you were the first person to kiss me.”  


Greg looked relieved but also a tad confused. “Uhm…thank you?”  


Mycroft blushed brightly, but he took all his courage and looked the other boy in the eyes.  


“I have fancied you for quite a bit, you know…” he said quietly.  


Greg’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”  
They had been friends, but he had never noticed any signs or evidence that Mycroft wanted more. He hadn’t made a move.  


“Why have you never said anything?”  


Mycroft huffed out a laugh, “You’re the only friend I have, how could I risk to lose you? Also just look at you. Why would someone who is so popular and attractive like you want to be with someone like me?” His last words sounded so bitter Greg couldn’t stand it.  


“Mycroft,” he said sternly, “Close your eyes.”  


Mycroft shot him a puzzled look.  


“Trust me. Please close your eyes.”  


As his eyes were shut Greg leaned closer before he whispered, “I want you to hear me. Not just listen. Hear what I have to say.” He brushed his lips against Mycroft’s jaw.  


“You’re so good looking and you refuse to acknowledge it. That’s a real shame.” He kissed his cheek.  


“About what you said…I thought the same thing you know. Posh guy like you would never wanna be with a bloke like me…and yet here we are.” His mouth wandered over the pale skin of Mycroft’s forehead.  


“If you had said a single word I would have gladly accepted to be your boyfriend, beautiful,” he said as he reached the right cheek. Then he kissed the corner of Mycroft’s mouth who sat there completely rigid, breathing just a little too fast.  


“Open your eyes,” Greg said against his mouth, “and keep them open. Now it’s time for you to see.”  


He leaned in and started to kiss him slowly while he looked into the grey skies that were Mycroft’s eyes. He wanted him to understand that despite people had called him names and treated him badly he deserved better and there was someone who thought he was perfect.  


“I would gladly be your boyfriend now,” he said as Mycroft had drawn back to get some air in his lungs. “Do you want that, too?”


End file.
